I draw my sword and march towards the mob;
My eyes glitter in crimson red, my blood sat out on my skin; I shed my mortality.
A harbinger of justice, a reaper of the lost, I step forth to cast my verdict;
My blade bawls, and the metal scorches under the fire,
Above me, red clouds gather;
thunder and lightning crash into the earth.
As I flash my gaze upon the damned, my scythe scratches the stone before me;
Bow, underdogs! Your trial is upon you!
As I blaze alight, from the shadows behind me, a silhuette emerges amidst the red light and mist,
A giant winged-creature, he bears witness upon the execution;
of the law of the dead.
Hear thee!
I’m unleashed, as the wings behind me light up;
With each strike of thundering fury.
